Being where you are
by Loveforthestory
Summary: When Charlie tries to run away from guilt and hurt, once formed in Austin, Bass finds her, in the middle of the night on the street. She will find that Bass will understand and is there, with her, where she is. When guilt turns into comfort, and distance turns into being closer.
1. Chapter 1

_Being where you are_

Take a look into these eyes  
They burn with fire  
Until the end of time  
I would do anything  
I'd beg, I'd steal, I'd die  
To have you in these arms tonight

Bon Jovi, in these arms.

* * *

Chapter one Standing alone on a street

* * *

 _In the little light that was there of coming through windows a small church, four people slowly realised they made it. More bullshit was about to happen soon. But at least for now, seeing the former President Davis being walked off, of course by a snide sarcastic remark from Miles, the stupid amount of time that flew by in just a couple of weeks, slowed down. As Rachel looked at Miles. Charlie found a smirk with layers of guilt and hurt and realising they were here on her smile. She also found the presence of a man she travelled many weeks and started all this close to her. Where he had been for such a long time now. And Bass, close to her, on the other side of the little church, looked at the ground. Remembered Connor, Neville. Scanlon. The wild raged tears that he had wiped of his damn face when he had to ride away on the wagon._

 _They walked outside. Blanchard and his General there to take things over. Bass looked at his best friend he would know, inside and fucking out, every fucking where. The tips of his fingers still aching to cut, shoot, kill. Revenge._

 _Bass walked outside the church. Finding her at the bottom of them. Standing tall, her hips. Legs. All of fucking her. Charlotte. he still called her that in his mind. A sweeter tone to it, the tone and warmth of a woman that had been with him for so long now that he had to remind himself of the fact that she had not always been there. It felt like it, just like it had with Miles. Where he had stood earlier, with her warm eyes on him, with so much new things in them that he could only stare. Be. And there, outside the church, Bass stood for a moment, side by side with Charlie. She did not talk. She looked at Blanchard and Miles. She had her eyebrow raised in the way that was so her. Her arm brushed against his. She did not seem to pull away. He looked at her, with eyes that were heavy with hurt, fatigue in his damn bones. She did not look up as he followed the line of her jaw, from her eyes to her lips. A strand of hair falling over her ear that he somehow almost brushed away. He didn't._

 _So Sebastian Monroe, stood there, next to Charlie Matheson._

 _Maybe, for someone outside, who would look at those two people, one slender frame with a weapon belt around smooth strong hips next to a taller rigid frame, with a black leather jacket and a gun strapped into his jeans, always leaning into his back, lined out against the Texan night sky, these were just two people. Maybe even friends. Maybe._

 _They were a lot of things now._

 _Some things had ended here tonight._

 _Some things would only just begin._

 _But it was late, or early, as the sun did not show itself._

 _Yet._

Present

Charlie feels fucking nothing. The room is dark, the dark walls, with a lot of wood in a bedroom that is not hers surround her, as she feels the heavy weight of a person on top of her. The town has gone to bed, and so has she, as she went home with a guy she barely knows. She should have felt lost into this, forget all the rest. The room, the bed. It all starts to feels unreal as the movements of the guy with her had felt impersonal, but with a common goal of being driven with the need to release. Now they only feel impersonal. And wrong. She can't endure the deep moaning and shallow breaths. And she can't be able to feel him anymore. An explosion of no surges up inside of her.

She had thrown herself into this. With fire, with anonymity. Just a guy, just a fuck. Just a way to blow off steam. But then his hands had been on her, and she had felt the start of panic. Panic because between panting and sweat that now seemed foreign to her, images of one man she met once when she was so much different, she once knew, came through. With so much force she forgets what she is doing. Until she can't do what she is doing. Until she pushes him of. Until she can't think of the guy she met once when she was so much different, she once knew and she has killed.

'Charlie?' His voice is husk as he leaves distance between them, sitting, panting on the bed. She does not even know his name. His touch now making her crawl, crawl with guilt and self loathing. She can't do this. She has to go. She leaves him behind, some guy she picked up at the bar, and rushes into her clothes and outside the door. As the walking turns into running.

* * *

Bass Monroe walks through fucking nowhere. How he had managed to follow Miles again, this time into this fucking place, he would never know. Maybe he was fucking crazy after all.

His small apartment would be waiting for him. Empty. Dark. Alone. Filled with self loathing and regret and what could have been. With loads of fucked up mess. Without his son.

Hope was scarce these days. Whiskey wasn't if you knew the right people. And he did. Plus, there was a best fucking friend. With the same desire for burning nothingness in his throat. And _dammit,_ didn't he know all the places Miles hid his damn whiskey. God forbid the girlfriend from hell should catch a grown man drinking. He felt his mood dip even lower.

His mood was already to hell when the kitchen had been empty without her in it, irritated at himself that he had noticed, when he had arrived at Miles to drink and share a bottle earlier this evening. That mood had even gone more to hell when he had heard from Miles she was busy somewhere, as Miles had made a hand gesture towards the town with a don't ask anything more Bass look on his face.

The thought of her, somewhere, not with him, but definitely with somehow had made him breath out harshly, look at the kitchen counter and feel anger. Hurt. Clenching his jaws, his back towards Miles, his brother not being able to see. He could not face Miles. Not now. He had no right to say anything. Just like he had no right to say anything when Charlie was ready to follow the old man into town to get more men right when they came back from Vegas. He had been fucking pissed at her stupidity. But that was not all. Just like he had fumed at Connor in Vegas. It was not about Miles and Rachel. It was more.

He had downed his first glass to make him forget about it all. Forget about her. She did not want him. Not in the history of fucking ever. She would not allow him. Period. _That's the ballgame folks_.

Bass realises he has forgotten his jacket at Miles at the next corner as he shuts his eyes and curses.

'Dammit,' he sighs. Now he has to drag his ass back. This whole night has to end soon, with him being passed out. Like now. He turns back with the exhaustion written all over his face in deep lines that carve the pain, an amount no one knows one man could carry, on his face.

He walks all the fucking way back with his shoulders low. And when he grabs the jacket, shoves the door to the porch open he sees her.

Charlie is standing right before the house. On the street. Alone. It is dark. He is about to walk over to her, past her, probably getting a look from her, if he is lucky tonight, expect all of fucking that when he sees her.

Tears in her eyes. Tears that wash over her, like a grey day with rain. The pale look on her face. It takes a while for her to see him.

When she does, it is like he feels a hot surge of breath cutting right through him. Instincts yelling at him to move closer, his experience with her telling him no.

Charlie looks up. And then she does not only see him, she fucking burns right through him.

She looks at Bass. As the house of her mom and Miles, who says he does not live there but the idiot really does, stands behind him. It had been her first place in mind to go to. But the more she has come closer to the house, she has been hesitating.

She did not want to come here. But she has no other options. It takes her a while to realise she is staring. Everything goes in slow motion, making her feel sluggish because what she feels is too heavy.

Bass looks at her, doing a quick scan of her body, an old habit from his days in the field, to rule out any kind of hurt on her body. Although he is starting to realise that this hurt, its deep, and inside of her.

He scratches his beard, looks from her to the house. Thoughts of Miles in there. He needs to get him. But then Charlie talks.

'I...' she starts, her mouth making a round movement, before she falls quietly again. She feels so much but does now know what to say.

He is with her, feeling desperate because he does not know what to do. If she wants him here. He turns her body towards her, to walk her inside. Charlie does not move.

She nods her head. 'No,' her voice sounds tired, filled with hurt and Bass catches it.

And then she realises where she is. Who stands in front of her. How fucking stupid this is. Tells herself to get a grip. She nods, this time not to feel, but to stop the feel.

But then she realises she is back where she has started. She looks at the house she does not want to go in. She feels the feelings she does not know how to feel. And then she feels Monroe. Fingers close wrapped on her shoulder.

As she finally feels another human being, another touch. And she did not know she was aching for it until she feels his hand, Sebastian Monroe's hand, on her shoulder there in the Texan night.

It feels more personal than she has ever felt.

* * *

 _Authors Note_ Hey lovely persons, thank you for reading! A new story, and this scene, the scene with Charlie in that dark room and the start of the story, was something I had swirling around in my writing mind for a while. This story will be about not being able to outrun your feelings, and another person who knows about just that.

Lovely to see you here, feedback is always welcome, I adore hearing from you.

Love from Love


	2. Chapter 2

Being where you are

Chapter two Punch you in the face

* * *

Charlie looks at Monroe. She is not sure if the hand, _his hand_ , wrapped around her shoulder is a shock to her system or something that feels strangely right.

Then she looks at the house behind him. Bass sees her eyes, undecided. Her doubt. As he realises how fucking close she actually is standing to him. The line of her tank, the lines of her sides are so damn close, fitting in a weird angle in the lines from the frame of his own body. And something tells him, no, _everything_ tells him actually, that if Charlie is not running straight to Miles, then something is definitely the hell wrong.

It is the wild sadness that burns in her eyes, it is that look in her eyes, the wild shift that tells him something is about to break loose. It is that moment that makes him remove his hand from her shoulder slowly.

Charlie feels the exact moment when his hand is not there anymore, and it is like a beam of support is lifted, leaving her almost with a soft gasp of breath now it is not there anymore. Realising how much she embraced it there. Him. Monroe.

She looks at the house that belonged to her grandpa but is now being used as a home for her mom and Miles. And knowing how much happiness lays there, as Miles and her mom dive into new found dynamics and touches and looks, and passionate encounters against walls, in beds and things she really doesn't want to know, about she knows she can't go possibly in there. Too much lays there of what she has not.

Bass puts a hand on his hip, as he takes a deep breath. Suppresses the urge to curse something as he shakes his head lightly. He jerks his head towards the direction of his apartment. To his own shock Charlie casts her eyes down, after she has looked at the house one more time, and then she follows him.

They walk together. Until footsteps behind them tense up Bass. He is fucking irritated that Charlie has not even heard it, or worse, she has heard them but does not bother to turn. He is irritated and worried at the same fucking time that she is not there, that she hasn't have herself and her weapon ready to go. This is not the girl, woman, partner, _whatever,_ he has been on the road with. This is post Austin Charlie, lost, numb faded out Charlie.

More footsteps are approaching.

A number of assholes on his kill list that could harm him or Charlie flash through his mind.

'Charlie,' Her name rings through the dark streets of Willoughby, 'Hey Charlie wait.'

Slowly but controlled and with burning anticipation and ready to fight his way out of it, and with one fast spin of his feet Bass turns around. Charlie stops. Looks at the guy she has just left behind. He can't be here. He is supposed to be a piece of her past already.

She does not respond. She just looks at the guy, the name still won't come.

'Charlie, it's me, Allan.' The guy, mid twenties, brown hair and not as tall as Bass walks towards Charlie. Looking at him and back to her.

Bass feels irritation turn into rage. He looks from this fucking asshole guy, Allan _, whatever_ , and then back to Charlie. Broken, lost in blue eyes dipped in sadness Charlie. He does not think, he just feels the rage and acts on it. He shoves the asshole of his feet with one giant punch of his fist that hits the guy in his face. With one contained step he grabs Allan back from the ground, with his hand at his throat as he narrows his eyes.

'Bass, stop!' Charlie yells.

Bass punches the asshole another time as fist finds bone and skin.

'It's not like that, stop.' This time her voice is more urgent as she tries to step in, standing so close now to his strong raging tall frame, where everything is tense now.

He does not say anything, as seconds pass, Allan looks scared out of his damn mind, which Bass has to admit, brings him some satisfaction.

'Bass...' Charlie feels all the energy she has somehow left in her drain from her after the felt the spike of fire in her. Bass does not look up, just keeps his eyes fixed on the other guy. He must have picked up on the change in her voice, because she can feel the shift in him even before he moves.

Bass pushes Allan away from him when dark anger still lay in his eyes, steal and rage, eyes aimed at him. He shoves two fingers towards his chest as he gives Allan one last warning.

'You stay the fuck away from her.'

Allan looks at the guy before him, taller, older and if he is not mistaken Sebastian Monroe, with so much danger and promised rage in his eyes, that his hand goes to his split lip before he gets on his feet and starts walking, that turns into running and turning a corner.

Bass puts a hand on his hip. Breathes out harshly. Charlie has never sounded like that. Charlie has never called him that. _Bass_. Charlie has never let so much emotions slip away from her when in front of him like that.

Charlie looks at Monroe, at the way he went for the other guy's throat. Something about it was so familiar. And then she realises it. _Miles._ The moment he had grabbed Drexel when he had slapped her. Rage, protective rage and the promise to kill. For her. She just saw it again, here on an empty street, on a late night, in his eyes. Rage, protective rage and to promise to kill. For her.

She looks at Monroe, who has turned her way, breathing hard as the rage leaves his eyes and it are the eyes again she saw before. When it was his hand on her shoulder.

Charlie lets Monroe guide her with warm steady arm on her lower back, through the streets of Willoughby, to a place she knows she will not outrun images either she has to. Because how could she ever live with this, with what she did?

Warm hand.

His.

She focuses again on that feeling. Of a strong hand and warm fingers. Not intruding, but slowly, gently.

His.

They walk on, Charlie more silent than she has been, closing of from him, but yet, still following him. Bass knows, senses what could be wrong here. It slaps him right in the face. He has seen Charlie that numb and hurt before. Post Austin. And now, with that asshole guy there, he is connecting the fucking dots of devastation in his mind. And it is like a punch of numb hurt he feels. For her.

* * *

Charlie shovels into a room. A small living room. She scans the room, but she does not really see it.

'Charlie?' It's a slow low timbre, that makes her name, _her name,_ roll of his lips.

She feels him standing right next to her. This is his place. His. But all she can see if Jason, dying again, on the floor between missing tiles between almost empty forgotten bookshelves.

Charlie is standing in his god damn living room, still in her jacket. Zipped up to her throat. Bass has closed the door. Making sure there is a lamp lit, soft light. Cold, is she cold? Thoughts are running through his damn mind. He will take care of her, as a promise to his brother. An unspoken promise that his family is his too, and all the bullshit too.

But here is the thing, and isn't that the fucking joke of the year. He is not just doing this for Miles anymore. He is not doing this just to make something right he know he fucking can't.

He is doing this for her. For Charlie.

Lights first. Back to her.

She does not move, as Charlie looks the couch. It is strangely large, inviting her with wide high corners and sides, that make it looks she could disappear there. She wants too. Here in this silent living room where his presence is again, strangely comforting. He does not ask questions, he does not give her the four year old treatment. He lets her be, gives her the feel that she can be, is allowed to be. Her. With all her damn flaws and errors and fucking bloodshed she can never undo. She has never told him that. Partly because she is just finding out about it herself.

Bass sees, knows, oh god, fuck, does he know, about that hollow look in her eyes. He moves closer. Gentle finger moves to her zipper, as he removes her jacket.

'Come on,' he almost whispers to her.

Charlie feels the warm breath of Monroe against her cheek. It is somehow intimate but not uncomfortable. It's such an intimacy that she feels the first piece of comfort. He guides her to the couch, barely touching her, careful not to. She does not need that shit right now. It is his strong tall long body that guides her, next to her to the couch.

She feels how his large hands are around her calves and boots. They are removed, her feet free now. Bass watches her, her head going for a pillow. He helps her, moving her head gently in his hand and onto the side of the couch.

'Be right back,' he says softly.

Charlie nods ever so gently. Her body heavy.

Bass grabs a blanket from one of the cupboards in his bedroom. He comes back, finding her already asleep. Her body breathing, her form huddled up in the corner of his couch. He feels the overwhelming need to tuck her in, her body safely and warm under the blanket as he wants to stay with her, as he crouches down next to the couch. A string of hair falling over her face. His hand moving to her shoulder, brushing it back over her shoulder as he lets the blanket softly fall over her shoulder.

Bass closes his eyes, emotions running too high. His heart is breaking for the girl on his couch, now asleep. But at the same time, his heart is fucking warming up for the fact that somehow Charlie has decided he gets to take care of her.

Charlie knows he is there. Somehow she knows this is all right. And that he will keep watch, when she can't.

All she wants to do now is sleep.

* * *

Bass had thought about crashing into his own bed, but something about her, about Charlie laying on his couch made him reconsider that decision. So he choose a spot on the couch next to her, her feet barely touching the outside of his thigh, his eyes half closed, tired as hell as his mind was going through all the possibilities of what the hell was going on and why she confided in him enough to choose to fall asleep next to his side again, just like they had done before on a road months ago. The small fire crackling before him in the fireplace.

He must have fallen asleep because he was woken up by her, rocking and fighting something in her dream. Her feet are buckling to get away from something, as the rock against his leg. He could feel the panic already as his eyes flew open. He gets to her as fucking fast as he can. He moves to her shoulders, as her hairs are glued to her forehead. She is moaning, sounds of pain, panic. He gently places his hands around her cheeks. Soft skin embraced by his hands.

'Charlie...hey,' his voice is gentle, swallowing away hurt for her, 'Charlie...wake up...'

Charlie is lost in images of Jason again, as she pulls the trigger, as she begs him again to stop so she doesn't...so she does not have too...oh please...

And then the room is gone, as she is still fighting.

And then, warm hands are there.

Bass feels her wake up as her fighting stops and the fighting sounds stop and move into cries. He removes his hands, all of a sudden feeling too god damn personal, as he looks at the floor before him, before he needs to look at her again. One of his hand are on her legs, cupping the line and shape with a large hand.

Charlie breaths in shakily, breaths out violently. This time she can't stop the crying she has been outrunning.

She is moved by strength. She is cradled in large arms as she is not alone anymore on that island on the couch. Bass puts his hand under her knees as he pushes himself up from the floor. He stands before the couch, now with Charlie in his arms as he lifts her next to him as he feels how Charlie does not fight him, as she forms her own body against his.

'Bass, he is gone...he is gone...' It is a repeat of words of guilt and hurt.

Bass feels his whole face being torn into lines of guilt of his own. He should have been there. Miles, him, fuck even Connor. They should have been there with her. She had her doubts, in camp, about bringing along the Neville kid. Standing right fucking next to him. He had stood there, telling him if he made one wrong move, they would fucking shoot him.

'I am so sorry Charlie...so sorry.' He is stroking her side, holding her, giving her his shirt to cry into.

Because he fucking is.

And there, he sits with her, until the crying turns more softer, and he rocks her. Holds her. Moves the blanket back around her when she starts shivering.

'I don't want to sleep...I don't want to be alone...I...'

Charlie feels the shattering hurt, but for the first time, there is comfort at the end of that long line too.

'Shhh,' Bass replies, 'You are not alone Charlie.'

He has been watching her, waiting. Charlie Matheson is strong. So fucking strong, hell, she is a Matheson. But she even has her breaking point, and he knows she thinks it is weak. It isn't.

Charlie hears the solid foundation in his words, as she recognises them as something true. Warm lips press a warm kiss against her temple. Bass just holds her there, under his chin and tells her again, in his low rough edged voice that somehow becomes more warm and reassuring and filled with faith than Charlie has ever heard.

'You are not alone.'

* * *

Authors Note I know that the first chapter was literally quite dark there in the Texan air, in the dark. But this chapter, made a step towards something lighter. I think that even how hurt Bass is, he has still comfort and solace to offer. And as me move towards sunset, things will change from here on now, not only for Charlie but also for Bass.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for the reviews for the first chapter. They were so very kind. I love reading them, so thank you so much for that! They are always welcome, as I would love to hear about your thoughts and feedback.

Love from Love


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

Telling the story

* * *

It is morning. Charlie is still on his couch.

When Bass has woken up, he has slowly moved her back to the place she is sleeping now. Not because he wanted to move her away from him, but because he needed to. _Hell_ , the last thing he wants to do is make her feel like he is taking advantage of her.

Because her in his arms, the warm weight of the fucking amazing on a daily basis woman that is Charlotte Matheson has brought _him_ something he is not willing to look at now. She gave him something , he can't even fucking think about. Things long forgotten, thinks that belonged to a world that was long gone now It feels wrong, feeling strangely filled, because of her, here, when _she_ is the one that is going through hell. He shouldn't, he realises, when he looks at her as he presses his lips together, his eyes tired and stinging.

He should not get anything back from her, not when he owes her so much, not while he should be there for her. .Her golden brown hair lightening up in the morning light.

He rubs his eyes tiredly. Gets up from the damn couch. Looks at her again, looks at the glass and bottle of whiskey on the table. He has not touched them since he only wanted to get her through whatever the fuck she was going. One thing he damn well knows for sure, is that she is enough of a Mini Miles to know that Charlie is not going to talk before she's ready. He let out a huff of air, _yeah_ , like that is going to fucking happen.

This is what _is_ going to happen. Charlie will wake the fuck up, throw up her defences, give him that intense stare of hers and then they are going back to the exact fucking place where they ended after all the bullshit from the past year. Looks. Fighting. Never leaving the other behind like some messed up turn of faith.

She wakes up slowly to light and an apartment she does not know before she realises where she is and with who she is.

Monroe. Bass.

Bass is on the other side of the room as he shuts his eyes when he realises he has to go to some fucking meeting with Blanchard and his guys. Charlie stirs. He walks over through the small living room towards the couch, getting to her level. He got a glass of water for her that he is handing her now.

Charlie remembers the images from last night, the apartment of a guy she has gone home with. She also remembers she fell asleep again, cradled against a warm strong chest and arms around her. For once, she has let go. She does not know why she even allowed him, or how Monroe was able to give her a little corner in time where she could finally sleep.

After the running, the fighting, the blazing into every fight and picking up random men, who she never lets close, not after Austin, not after Jason, she almost cringes, when his name and even more his face, is there again. Truth is she has gone home with Allan to outrun guilt, and because she is pissed at herself that she can't seem to move on when everyone is encouraging her to do so. Allan had seemed like a nice enough guy, but he was too much of one thing, not enough of the other. He had been sweet, but she had to get away from him, as his touch, had done nothing for her pain.

At the end of the night, It is Monroe's couch that made her finally able to sleep.

And now just his couch.

She looks at him, her eyes fixed on his. He has trouble looking at her, his eyes everywhere and then again, on her. The empty grieve with her, but the deep sleep somehow brought back a piece of herself.

She accepts the glass from him, as Bass sees how her eyes are darting everywhere.

'Hey, I have to let Miles know where you are, Charlie.' His voice sounds low. He has to fight his hand wanting to go to her arm to nudge her, because after holding her his body is unable to keep the stupid down to a minimum when it comes to wanting to make contact with her.

Charlie nods.

The glass is almost empty as he takes it from her again.

'Look, I have to see Blanchard this morning.' He swallows, as Charlie sees he is unsure about what he is going to say next.

'You can stay here, if you want. You can leave if you don't.'

Charlie feels the couch, the silence in this small apartment. The warm place where she has been able to sleep. His scent around, little things in here that make her at ease. His things. It's quiet. It reminds her of nothing, only fills her with strangle little things that make her at ease.

Bass heart takes a giant leap as she crawls back under the blanket and oozes into the corner of his couch. He wants to cover her up, but here in the morning light it seems there are a different set of rules.

'Be back later this afternoon.' He says softly as he moves away from the couch, getting ready for the day. Getting ready for another round of bullshit as all he finds himself want to do, is stay here for whatever this is.

Before he is out of the door, Charlie is asleep again. He leaves a key on the coffee table for her. Before he locks the door, Bass he looks at her, slowly evenly breathing on his couch, under his blanket in his apartment.

* * *

'My daughter is where?' Rachel spits out.

'Rachel I am begging you' Miles warns her, he is not ready for some stupid ass round forty fucking five between the three of them.

He has been worried sick since Charlie was not there in the morning. It is not uncommon for her to stay out late, and although he hates it, he can't keep her here, safe with him, in this house forever since getting Charlie to do anything she does not want to do is impossible as heel.

But this is her home, and normally she would have found her way back to them, _to him_ , about now.

Miles has been looking through the window since dawn, walking to the porch with some whiskey poured in a cup that is supposed to go for coffee. Whiskey with a side of disapproval from Rachel.

It is not much later when Bass has walked towards the house, as Miles would recognise him anywhere. Shoulders slumped into that jacket, the way Bass keeps his head down, just a bit. God, he swears, he misses the days his brother walked around with his head high, with firing blue eyes turned to the world, joking around, making movie references like he never done anything else, flirting easily with Holly from two streets from his house in high school, getting into as much fucking trouble as they could, instead of turned to the demons they both face now.

Bass has walked into the kitchen and talked him through what has happened. Finding Charlie, giving her a place to sleep. Austin biting him both in the ass, like they knew the silent aggressive look in Charlie's eyes a day after, meant trouble for the future. It has not taken long for Rachel to join them.

Bass had been filling them in, and even Miles has to admit the moron was doing his very best to not let Rachel freak the hell out. Miles has been trying to talk some reason into Rachel, but the _match near the gasoline_ train has left the station ten minutes ago.

Miles is just glad that Charlie is safe, asleep. Not running away as he knows she normally chooses to do, because _hell_ , it is what he does too. Bass took care of her.

Bass fires back at Rachel with his own eyes as he hears the contempt in her words. _She is with you._ _You._

Rachel moves to the door.

'What are you doing?' Miles asks.

'Getting my daughter.'

'No you are not,' Miles says, really trying to keep his calm.

'And why not Miles?' Rachel looks at him with big eyes, torn line around her mouth and the look filled with cold playing with his emotions.

Bass has to go over his nose with his fingers, as he takes a sharp breath in. He is already beyond done with all of this bullshit, but there is satisfaction as he sees his brother finally stepping up for Charlie. For him. He clenches his jaws and lips as he stands with a hand on his hip looking at Rachel with a storm of warning at rage in his eyes. A warning to not push it.

If this is going to be another Rachel Matheson show when _anothe_ r person is going through hell, he swears he will not be able to keep his mouth shut.

'We know where she is, she obviously needs some space and the last thing I want for her is to feel she has to start running again to deal with whatever it is she is dealing.' Miles says, this time his voice pitches higher, with more force behind his words. 'Hell, Rachel, that girl has done enough of running.'

Bass picks up on the change in Miles' voice, as sharply blunt pain runs through them. And every fucking time, Miles gets to him.

Rachel looks at him like her eyes shoot fire, as she clenches her fists together and Gene walks in.

'You know he is right, honey,' Gene looks from Miles, to Rachel. 'Give her some space, be there for her later.'

Rachel shoots cold hate at Monroe one more time before she leaves the kitchen. Making sure he knows, Miles knows, she is done with this conversation with him and the freaking monster standing in their kitchen.

Bass spreads his arms.

'So, no thank you then for making sure she is all right?' He snaps after her, his voice booming through the kitchen. He shakes his head in frustration, boiling up on rage that stays in his blue steely eyes.

'All right.' He says bitterly, as he nods to the door, 'Blanchard is waiting, I have to go.'

Miles nods.

Bass grabs the doorknob of the door in the small kitchen of the Porter home.

'Bass?' Miles asks, as Bass hears the uncomfortable yet familiar tone in his brothers voice. He is already far to pissed with Rachel's holier than hell but forgets to be there for her own kids attitude, and he is ready to bolt and leave this shit behind. It is the voice in his brother's voice that makes him stop.

He turns, irritation in his eyes. 'What?' he snaps, with rough voice.

'Thanks man, for coming by to tell that she is all right...you know..' Miles does his best to not look away. 'For making sure she has a place to crash.'

Bass sees his old friends squirm, and fuck, friendship and brotherhood get in the way of just ignoring his ass. And isn't that how it always has been.

'Anytime,' he almost growls back, as his eyes go softer now that Rachel has left the kitchen and it is just Miles and him, ' Just surprised she wants to stay with me.' His voice is now more open, as he looks at Miles.

'Well, I'm not.' Miles answers, his usual sarcasm coming through.

'Excuse me?' Bass turns towards Miles, not believing his fucking ears.

'Well, she did save your ass more than once Bass. Ever thought of why she did that?'

Bass looks completely dumbfounded. He has saved her. She saved him. That's what they do.

'Well, somehow had to help your asses out with the patriots.' Bass bitterly answers.

Miles feels more guilt. The jab from Bass directed at him for coming back for fighting with them, putting his life on the line not to get his own revenge but also make sure their little group was all right without ever a word from Miles through all these months tug at Miles' heart.

He looks at Bass the way he did under that bridge, with Charlotte in the middle, when he just came back with her. Like he wants to fucking take a step towards Bass.

'Bass, she somehow choose to want to be at your place now. Ever see Charlie something she does not want to do?'

Miles looks at him, before he turns away, realising this is going into the mushy direction fast. And, well, he kind of enjoys Bass look on his face.

And there, Bass feels the start of realising what is in those words. What he is to Charlie right now. Something he fucking envied so much, seeing her confiding in Miles. He is becoming that person for her now too.

'Come get me if she needs me. I don't want to...' Miles eyes go to that sad guilt loaded place again, 'push her or anything like that.'

'Sure brother.' Bass nods. They have an understanding.

'Thanks man, just keep her safe, or else, I will kick your ass.' Miles warns with a smile. They both know that even with that smile, Miles is very fucking serious.

Bass looks at the ground, grins. Remembering that Allan asshole from last night that caught up with them on their way to his apartment. He will do exactly the same to anyone who gets to fucking close to Charlotte.

'Anytime.' Bass nods before he is out of the door.

* * *

When Bass comes home Charlie is still on the same side of the couch. Asleep.

He makes her something to eat. She eats. She uses the bathroom. He gives her something to drink. She drinks. As she accepts a glass of whiskey and then realises she still feels it, the overwhelming need to sleep, to slip away, let her body and mind and heart do the mending of a tired exhausted body.

She has nightmares.

But he is there.

There is fire in the middle of the night, waiting for her to wake up to. To realise she was dreaming, to realise she is not alone. That he is there. His voice soothing here, hearing his voice again when he told her the night before that she was not alone. The warm breath of air filling her with warmth, flowing through her chest, casting away some loneliness.

And maybe it is the fire in his fireplace. The small sounds of rain outside. Maybe it is them again, the two of them, forming a alliance that no one would believe or see coming if they heard about it before. But it is real. There at 4 a.m., there in his living room. Bass and her. And then, there, on the second day she is there with him, she starts to talk.

And he is there to listen.

* * *

 **Author's note** This chapter was about a couple of things: of finding comfort where you did not think it could be. Or if you are honest, there were some signs that someone was paying attention. Because Bass really was, in all those little moments before.

I also wanted to write the moment between Bass and Miles, and yeah, Rachel. Bass keeps on doing good things for Charlie, and I think, it was time for Miles to understand that and acknowledged it. Secondly, Miles realises Charlie is okay with Bass here and that she chooses to stay there, that she needs that. And that, her needs, are more important now than what Rachel wants. This time, Miles does not want to push Charlie away, as I am sure he had many sleepless worried nights about Charlie when she walked away from him at the start of season two.

I wanted to show that their brotherhood, and friendship is still going strong, and that thrust and loyalty are coming back. Charlie the one igniting that.

Also, I wanted Miles being the one that made Bass see, that Charlie choose him, to stay with, to be here.

I stopped at a turning point in the chapter, where Charlie is ready to talk, and tell her story completely.

In next chapter there will be more from that story, and we will see how Bass will be there for her in new ways, as the story moves on.

I am so overwhelmed by all the kind reactions and feedback and reviews you have sent me for this story, thank you so much. It was a joy to read them all! I love reading them and knowing you are reading my story, so thank you for that!

Feedback is always appreciated!

Love from Love


	4. Chapter 4

Hey you! Thanks for all your reviews!

In last chapter, Charlie spend time with Bass, when she needed a place to just be. Bass gives her that oppurtunity, and Charlie silently accepted that offer. His couch is her her place to sleep, a corner to just be. Bass is there for her. In last chapter Bass also went to Miles' and Rachels, wanting to make sure they knew Charlie was allright. Rachel give him hell, Miles had his back.

* * *

Chapter four Listening

* * *

It a little after four in the morning. The fire is burning in orange and golden low flames, as Bass sits next to Charlie. It has been two days since she has walked with him to his place, silently acecpting his offer when he found her before Miles' and Rache;s place. It has been one day since he went over to Miles and Rachels place to tell them Charlie was with him. One day since Rachel was her own nagging hypocritical self, one day since his brother stood up for him. He has gotten used to her silent frame next to him. It's like being on the road with her again, only this time, the silence is bearable, a sign of something else. Something else that if he puts it into words, it will fucking sound insane.

It is a little after four in the morning when her voice reaches him.

'Thanks,' Blue eyes look at him, 'for letting me stay here.'

Bass eyes fire up, it is hard to miss as Charlie sees a colour in his eyes that reminds her of him in that empty hallway in that school, when it should have been another step forward for the both of them to something she never understood. But it had been there. There until she had hit the emergency breaks in New Vegas.

She did not know she would ever get to see that look in his eyes again. Sure, there have been many more looks between them since New Vegas round two. Challenge, bitterness, distant looks. Looks filled with shock on a pavement on a street corner in an alley in Austin, eyes that were filled with guilt and the need to reach hers near a train.

It's an honest no fake no nonsense shit thank you from Charlie. It should not mean what it does to him. She grabs the bottle from the table. He considers it a good sign. A Matheson not reaching her or himself for a bottle is never any fucking good news. A Matheson reaching for a bottle, although still looking like hell, is a better sign. He feels a grin inside, yeah, an mini Miles indeed.

His voice is scratchy from the late hour and the emotions this girl always seems to bring out in him.

Bass waits, and he has to fucking ask. He can't not ask.

'What happened the other night, Charlie.' His voice is honest, the way he pronounces her name almost like they are familiar with this.

He feels her tense up and is about to curse at himself when she starts talking.

'I went home with that guy to forget,' Charlie says slowly, when she turns to Bass, who looks at her. Charlie smiles quickly, but it is a nervous smile, a slow smile, when her eyes stay filled with sadness.

Bass is sitting close, but not too close.

'Jason...' Charlie has to stop, it has been so long since she said his name out loud, 'every time I think I have a chance to breath, maybe move on, for just one day, he is there.'

Charlie says the words, the true words, as they finally move out of her heart and into the room.

Bass nods, god, he knows all about that. He remembers Charlie, standing in front of him in Austin. He remembers Miles, the dark worry in his eyes, as he dragged Charlie along, put her on the back of the wagon and how once she was there, never let go of the shotgun in her hand. He had sat down next to Connor on the front, because what the hell was his business sitting next to her. He once had in her time of need, but not there, it was now Miles who was with her. Maybe even Connor after all the eyes and looks he had shot Charlotte. Connor had showed concern but she did not let him close, and somehow Connor had looked at her, but had not moved closer or tried a damn thing.

Bass remembered. But he had been there, for every second, for every damn moment Miles had tried to reach Charlotte, as his body had been turned slightly to their every word and movement on that wagon behind him.

Charlie was now sitting here, next to him, when there was no Connor, no Miles. Just him. She starts speaking again.

'The other night I went home with that guy, and he was kind of okay, but I...' she sees Bass' jaws tense up, 'I couldn't...I...' She does not know how to move on without exposing too much of a vulnerable situation. How is she going to explain this, to him.

Bass tenses up with jealousy for this loser guy, but the jealousy moves away for remembering she is here with him now, and this is not about him. Her. This is about her. He hears Charlie struggle. He understands. He really fucking does.

Bass shuts his eyes for one second, and Charlie sees the pain written on his face. Bass remembers the amount of whores he fucked with anonymous and fast jerks of his hips to forget everything, everyone. Miles. Emma.

And because this is Charlie. And because she knows, somehow she does, the secret paths to the corners of his heart he rarely shows anyone, he starts talking to her. Just like the moment at the fire, when she had woken up from drugs after a day of being worried out of his damn mind, just like that moment when she did not believe him when he had been actually raw and open and sincere, when he had talked about at least fucking try to make up for what he has done, he shows her his cards again. Just like on that night near a fire, when openness was somehow there, he does it again here. The rain is here too, softly falling over the town and against the windows.

'After Emma, fuck, I was such a fucked up mess Charlie.' His voice is low and almost not audible because of the pain.

He hopes she does understand he is not comparing his own madness with her defending herself against a turned into zombie Neville kid.

Charlie knows about Emma, god, she was there. And she knows the situations are different, but yet they are the same somehow. She was there with Jason, in that building. She should not have been there alone. She should never went against her own feeling in her gut telling her accepting Jason's offer to use him on their trip to Austin was a bad idea.

But she feels that their brokenness, hers and Bass', are the same in so many ways.

They touch the surface of many nights, broken moments and stories of loss. That is enough for now, for this night a little after five now.

'You loved her,' Charlie looks at Bass, as the distance on the couch is gone, not because there is not space between them on the cushions, but because they eyes always seem to close the distance somehow with so many other things between them.

Bass feels his eyes fill with blurred salty tears. He nods, as more understanding than he could ever ask for is there in her eyes. Then looks away.

'You loved him,' Bass says, gentle than he ever has, to her.

'Yeah,' She says on a whispered breath.

They sit together, as neither of them moves away from the other. They let the fire burn, the sun come up and let the other give them solace.

* * *

Even in small town, life moves on, maybe a little slower than elsewhere. Miles visited her the morning after her night with Bass. A night where neither of them escaped in meaningless sex or booze or self loathing. They were just two people being there. With the truth. For the other. Both broken enough to be there, both strong enough for the other. They had breakfast.

The next day her mom was on fire, but Charlie did not let her chip away any meaning her days at Bass' place had. Her mother was not able to touch that. Because it was real.

On a Thursday evening Charlie walks into the kitchen, finding Bass and Miles there. Miles nods at her with a smile to get her ass over to the table to join them, as Bass pulls back another chair from the table, pulling it back so she has a place to sit.

'Well, aren't you being all very polite tonight.' Miles says, sarcasm dripping in every word.

Charlie ignores the knee of Bass so close under the table. They and three set of legs all find a place under the table and her shorter legs are there with his and Miles'.

'Well, at least I know how to treat the ladies.' Bass purses his lips, grins and then Charlie kicks him.

'Hey!' Bass grunts which widens Miles' smile.

Miles hides it behind a hand before his eyes. He is not lying. He loves seeing his brother and the kid getting along better. He spends more time with the both of them, more than with Rachel. Things between him and her are hard, good, but hard too. Basically things are like shit for a while now. There are fights, and guilt, and jabs to their past. And the guilt towards Ben. Towards Charlie. As Rachel makes it harder every damn day to sit down with Bass, which he really gets.

But there is also this nagging part inside of him, somewhere still there behind layers of guilt, that tells him that she _can_ move on with him, love him, when all the things he did were equally as bad as Bass' crap. But she can't understand that he might want to have Bass in his life as well. They are still brothers, that crap will never change. Just because Bass was in charge of the whole damn thing when he left does not change that. He has just been lucky enough to meet this stubborn annoying kid, that dragged him out of there.

Somehow, when he is with Bass and Charlie, things move away for a bit. They have fun, talk. He sees Bass relax. He sees Charlie smile. God, it is good to see her smile. They drink, sit. Talk.

Bass grins at him, as Charlie watches both men with shoulders that don't feel as tensed as when she walked in.

Charlie meets with Miles and Bass more often, and finds herself not minding his company. Things are different. Things are not easy. But she eats with them, drinks with them, and feels she can be herself with them. She does not have to explain certain things, both Bass, or Miles, or Bass and Miles were there for so many of them.

They understand so much of everything, and when things between her and her mom are worse than ever and she is really done with that, Bass is there more and more to fill that moments with just being there, walking her home, bitch about Miles. And she feels that what happened to Miles is happening with Bass. She sees the whole man, the whole story. And the start of wanting to forgive is there.

On a Wednesday morning, Bass walks her to a building close to the small shop that sells bread, as he smiles at her with that stupid ass grin and that one thing in his eyes and on his whole face that she wants to knock of his face as she rolls his eyes at him. Bass stops, his jacket flowing open.

'What's this?' She asks, putting a hand on her hip.

Bass looks at her, at the way she is getting worked up. God he loves her that way. He won't make the mistake of fucking tell her of course. No, he has himself some fun and this is some fun all for himself.

'What does it look like?' He grunts back. Which pisses her off even more, which causes him to have to bite back a grin and think of Miles' ugly naked ass in a shower. It always does the trick. It does now too.

'A house.' Charlie snaps back. God she hates this. Bass drags her halfway across town and is irritated at her for asking your royal highness where they have gone.

'Not just any house, genius,' Bass grins, as he grabs something out of the back pocket of his jeans.

Before Charlie can start bitching and gives him eyes that tell him she might go back for her crossbow, he holds the damn key before her eyes. She looks at him, then to the key, then to the house.

'Excuse me?' Charlie says with disbelieve, 'What is that supposed to mean?'

He ignores her protesting, walks to the front door, opens it as he walks in.

'Bass, wait.' Charlie says.

Bass realises it will never get old to hear her say his name. He just ignores her. Maybe it will earn him a couple of more. She follows him into the house.

'Here is the kitchen, the bathroom..' He walks on, his boots on the floor, ' my personal favourite, the bedroom,' he winks at her as he sees Charlie loose the battle to her own stubbornness, 'and the living room.'

Charlie follows him around the house. It is small, but comfortable, and with a homey feel to it she can't describe.

'How...? ' It is all she manages to get out.

'I know some people around town Charlie, it's yours for the whole next year, nobody was putting it to good use anyway.'

He looks at her again, god, this is a whole lot of fun. He can't help but smile as she starts to look around. She sees the moment she realises that this could be a good thing. He walks towards her as he stands still next to her.

'Not bad huh?' He nudges her shoulder with his upper arm. She does not move back. She looks up.

'Bass, this is too much.' Her face is open, serious.

'No it is not.' And then his face turns serious, 'Miles and I fucked up a lot of things Charlie, but giving you your first apartment is something we can do. You should have your first apartment.'

Charlie feels warm and tense at the same time at his words. It is a good tense, a tense that tells her she is noticed, they see her. He sees her.

'Miles knows about this?' Charlie asks with a grin on her face as she looks around her again. _Her own apartment._

Bass scratches the back of his head, his fingers going through his curls on the nape of his neck.

'Technically no.' Bass grins back, 'but I am not moving all of your shit on my own. The asshole is going to get his ass of his favourite chair to help.'

It is the first time they really laugh together, Miles, who else could it be, being the one to bring that smile together on their faces at the same time.

'So, it's a yes?'

'Oh, it is a yes,' Charlie says, and he hears so much of Miles in her voice. They look at each other.

'Good,' Bass nods, as he shrugs of his jacket and then throws his jacket casually in a corner that move his muscles of his back, and he marches to one of the windows to open it and let some of the air from outside into the room, 'then let's get this shit on the road.'

On a warm day, with lots of curses from her uncle and her uncle's best friend and brother in arms, she moves in. They share sandwiches and cold meat and whiskey on crates in the living room because she does not have a couch yet.

It is Aaron that buys her one, and it's Miles and Bass that have to carry the damn thing inside with more curses and whines from them both.

On a rainy night, in her own apartment, when Miles and Bass are there with her, a circle of friends and growing love between them, she finally tells them the whole story of Austin. She cries, zooms out, comes back when Miles strokes her hair and Bass holds her, side by side with her. Miles lets him.

On a clear night, cold but with wood in the fireplace, they share stories from their childhood, with Charlie curled up on the couch next to them.

And it is in the middle of one of these stories, when Miles is doing his best to mortify Bass in his story, Bass looks at her. And Miles' voice and words turn to the background. Their fingers almost touch, on her couch in the small living room that made her feel safe from the beginning. Even more safe after all the work Bass and Mile have put into it. She sits there with Miles' warm eyes and bass' his large hand close to hers on the couch and she feels something stirred by his tall frame, his burning eyes and his soothing large yet completely stimulating body next to her and she feels something, she did not think she would ever feel again.

* * *

 **Authors Note** So, it was very tempting to make something happen between them that night in Bass' apartment where Charlie opened up to him. Believe me, very tempting. But they are both filled with so much sadness, that finding solace was there first, because first I wanted something else to happen here in this story. Something _did_ happen, something honest, something true. There on Bass' couch.

And somehow, even Miles' part, his bond with Bass came through in this chapter.

Something happened too before that when Bass went to Miles to tell him about Charlie and where she was, and Miles stood up for him and Charlie against Rachel in the last chapter. And then the story moved on to the weeks and months after, until that moment on the couch.

I also really wanted Bass to arrange something for her, not putting into words yet that he pays attention to her, but that he did arrange something for her, something from before the blackout that she should get to experience: her own apartment. I know Bass can be Bass, all crude and snide remarks. But I think that somewhere, with Miles and Charlie, this could happen too...

Bass and Charlie. Almost touching, eyes burning. In next chapter, they will remove the last part of distance between them.

Love from Love


	5. Chapter 5 Together

Chapter five

Together

* * *

 _Here we are, the moment in the story where Bass and Charlie finally remove all the distance between them….It is a late night, and Miles and Bass are drinking with Charlie, in her apartment. The apartment Bass got for her. They drink, they laugh. And now Charlie and Bass are sitting on her couch, close, he looks at her, she feels his hand close to hers._

Bass knows, the moment Charlie is aware of where he is. Where she is. How the whiskey and bullshit stories turn into something else for them, right there on her couch. On her couch in the apartment that is all hers and where he finds in her eyes how damn happy it is making her.

Time falls away, as he realises that he is one fucking lucky man, having Miles and her here, both of them having accepted them in their group. A new group of the three of them, strong.

Neither of them really talk about it, but it is in what they share. It is in the way Bass feels how Miles lets him close to Charlie, that he knows they have come a long way. They loved like brothers. They went through hell, went their separate way through their own hell. Come back. Fought, fought together, fought each other.

And when they thought they were finding some middle ground, Rachel had to open her mouth and put herself between him and Miles, again. He knew she would use that one night they once shared, _Philly, drunk,mistake, regret,_ against him. In her calculated bitching way. Eventually on a Wednesday night in Willoughby, she _had_ opened her damn mouth. Miles in the room. Charlie had walked in. He knew Rachel had waited for that moment. And at the moment he was sure Charlie and Miles would have a go at him and fucking kill him, for real this time, things had turned. Miles had not been surprised. Charlie had been. It _had_ been fury and hell, but not aimed at him. Charlie had fired at Rachel, seeing through her, realising fast she was using this not to tell the truth but to rip him and Miles apart.

Apparently loyalty and strength had been there, but this time for him. He had listened, with jaws clenched at her, in awe, like fucking always. He had listened to her, to Charlie, how she was done with all off Rachel's shit.

He knew she would follow Miles everywhere from that moment, he knew the bond, that always had been there between Miles and Charlie was made for good. He knew, somehow he know, that even he himself, would have her back, and that she would let him.

And now they are here, somewhere again where they have started.

With her.

He knows she belongs to them now, as no one understands their hell better. No one soothes the other better. No one gets the other through a dark day, or a long night. It has been like that from the beginning.

With the woman that kept loyal to values he once fought for.

She is so close, and damn, he has felt this before, he is not going to fucking deny that. But is what he sees in her eyes. He realises that she might feel it too.

Bass wants to somehow make her fit closer, into the nook of his shoulder when he shifts a bit on the couch. But it is Miles' voice, and a whole lot of other shit that makes him pull away his gaze from her, and towards Miles. Just like he has done before, when it were her bravery and loyalty and strength that made him forget all about Rachel Matheson and Strausser in the room. Her. Only her. It had made his mouth dry and his heart beat fucking faster. He remembers her and knows it is one of the moments that is a perfect fucking example of all the shit is still between them.

But fuck, she is beautiful. Just as she was then. She has grown. She grew and is still growing into more strength. In more beauty. He watches Charlie laugh about something Miles just said.

They talk, they drink. Charlie drinks her whiskey as she drinks in him, with those deep blue eyes with a hint of blazing other kinds of blue in there.

Miles finishes his story and Charlie laughs, grins. Bass just looks at his glass, giving himself something to do as he concentrates on drinking.

God he wants her alone. He loves his brother here but fuck, has his brother some kind of radar that knows what the fuck he is thinking of right now? He fucking likes spending time Miles and Charlie, but right now he needs her very much the fuck alone.

Finally Miles slams his drink on the table before him.

'Well, that was fun but since I am still able to kind of walk my ass home, I am going to call it a night,' Miles sighs, but with a warm tone in his eyes. He pulls Charlie into a hug and plants a kiss in her hair.

'Feel free to kick this moron out any time you have seen enough of him,' Miles adds, pointing at Bass who sits with his legs wide and boots on the ground, and glass of whiskey in his hand.

Bass just grins as Charlie looks at Miles with a smirk.

'Will do just that, Miles.'

'Night kid,'

'Night uncle Miles.' Charlie teases him with the uncle shit, she knows how much Miles hates it. But it is a lot of fun. _For her._

'Night brother,' Bass says with a low voice as he realises there is only trust in Miles' eyes.

'Night man,' Miles nods at Bass before he is out of the door.

He really fucking wanted her alone, but now he has her alone, he feels fucking fourteen again.

'Another round?' Charlie smirks.

'Oh hell, why not,' Bass grins back as Charlie walks back from the front door to the place they had just been sitting. Somehow landing closer to her then she was before. Holy hell.

Charlie realises she is sitting right where her mind has somehow placed her, and Bass is too close but not close enough at the same time. She focuses on her drink.

He pours her another drink, and it is in the easy way he does that, that makes her almost shiver somehow. They are friends. She can say that out loud. But friends don't pay that much attention to the other, right? Like every one of his moves fills the room. Like his scent of leather is all around her. Like she watches him swallow and she can only look at his muscles move. Like she all of sudden hopes he won't go home too.

Like she hopes he will stay.

Bass feels his heartbeat pick up again. He watches Charlie watching him.

His eyes are there to catch her when her eyes finally want his.

And she sits close, so damn close. And then there is no space between them anymore.

'Bass..' Charlie whimpers, a slow whisper right before their lips meet. It is a question and calling and want all in one.

He wants to be there, he wants to catch her, he wants to fucking taste her as his moustache brushes the soft skin of her lips.

Bass kisses Charlie, slowly but with strength. Their lips explore. Charlie's soft whispers fill the room as Bass adds more force and both their hunger wakes up. In the kiss they move closer and closer, as whiskey and the room are forgotten. And hell, fucking hell, it is good. She is so good.

Charlie does not even realise it, but all she feels now, is bliss, warmth, raw lust. No pain, no guilt, no aching memories. She feels Bass, his mouth and how he has pulled her close.

It is his kiss she wants.

Only his.

Their kiss turns into more fast. She feels how Bass holds her, but at the same time gives her space, and it is like the flowing of seasons, where she moves into a new set of emotions and needs every time. He holds her, a hand over her thigh, a hand under her top that somehow landed there.

Bass feels how she asks for more, and he has move his fingers slowly under her top. She asks for more. He watches and feels her every movement. He wants her. He wants her to feel safe with him, this overwhelming need to make her his, to make sure she knows, his arms and touch are safe ones.

He feels how Charlie surrenders, more and more, and how she manages to make him hard, so fucking hard, touch by touch. Hell, fuck, he wants her. So fucking much. Her thigh move over his. It is there, that make them both know they will take this to that one place where it will be everything.

Their touching, kissing and exploring move into the bedroom. She remembers what Bass said, the first day he showed her the house. His favourite. She smirks. Bass' smirk against her lips tells her the asshole remembers too. He is smug. But he is oh so good.

He helps her undress, as gentle and yet calloused strong fingers move over her skin. She decides she likes the growl that escapes from his throat when she waits to long with opening his pants. Bass feels how she kisses him with fire to make up for that, but then she presses her nipples against his bare chest to drive him even more wild.

They move to and onto the bed. Her linen smells like her. A hint of soft spring, but down to earth. Body parts entangle, deep moans from her as Bass finds her favourite places and a grunt and a cursed fuck rumble from his chest when she slowly blows some hot air against the curls around his cock and balls.

She looks at the lines around his eyes, his deep intense eyes, and she realises, this, it is that look, that one look that she never ever dared to unravel. She knows now what it means, what was there, in his eyes all that time. Desire, want, a place to disappear, as it is skin against skin.

Bass looks at her, and with one smooth movement of her face, he knows.

He enters her, and Charlie has to close her eyes. He grunts her name, that name that has been in reports, that has been a name from briefings, that became a name when she stood before him. That became everything to him.

'Bass...' She moans his back. It is everything. It fills his heart and makes his cock twitch inside of her, aching for more. They move. He moves in deeper, she moves with him.

And then his fingers move to her neck. And Charlie's eyes fly open. She feels a cold shiver. And it is not the good kind.

Bass is immediately on alert as he feels her immediately tense up as she has her mouth open. eyes that are wild and looking around. He stops moving. His eyes are now filled with worry.

'Charlie,...shit...' his voice is filled with worry, 'Charlie, are you okay? Did I...Did i hurt you?' Bass' voice is raw and low, and hinted with panic and fear for hurting her, in every way he can even think of right now.

Images of Austin are there. Jason's face right before her, as she feels bookcase is pressed again in her back. The feel of another man's hands around her neck, the same spot where Jason had put his to hurt her, and there it is again, Jason's face, and even more panic are flooding her. The wave is short and she feels so incredible vulnerable. And then it is gone, and she sees Bass.

Eyes are filled with so much compassion and worry.

Worry for her. Somebody sees her, is there for at that exact moment she needs that person,. His eyes are filled with worry, with panic, with wanting to make it better for her.

The panic is almost gone, the rush moving away. And now she feels so stupid. And scarred. And still wanting, needing Bass.

She gasps, as she takes a deep breath.

'Baby,' the word is out of his damn mouth before he knows it, 'tell me what's wrong.' His voice is warm, warmer and more filled with need to reach her, than it has ever been. Worry and wanting to reach for her that she has seen in his eyes, have finally moved into words.

 _She does not want this. This was stupid. She does not need me. She does not need his fucking pathetic past. Him._ Bass feels his mind constrict around panicked thoughts. That is until Charlie starts to apologize.

'I'm sorry...I'm...' Charlie stammers.

Bass has rolled of her body, gently moving them both so he has her cradling her in his arms as he looks in her eyes. Gentle hands around her cheeks, trying to reach for her.

'Hey, don't be stupid...you have nothing to be sorry for Charlie...,' Bass' voice sounds low and worried and warm, 'hey, what's wrong?'

Finally Charlie sees his eyes. She remembers all the moments he has been there for her. And she trusts him to be here for her too.

'When you touched my neck...I...it was like Jason, he...' She can't say no more. Bass already knows, he understands. She sees it in his eyes. Bass touching her there was like flying her back into that memory.

She has told Miles and him the story. He knows, knows what Charlie had to endure. Bass feels his heart fucking break for her.

'Oh sweet baby, I am so sorry...so sorry...come here.' He holds her now, safely, warm, not to close as he waits for her to form herself against his body. he lets her move, and talk, and cry. They are warm and naked, and stay like that for a while.

'Bass...I don't know if I can do this, if I can keep on remembering over and over without...' Charlie's voice sounds small.

Bass wishes this was the point he could tell her what his mom always told him. _Everything will be all right. Everything will be fine._

'I know,' it is not a hollow comforting line, he really does know. He brushes her hair. Moves his chin a bit to her so he is even closer, his stubble touching her.

'But Miles is there for you. We have always found a way through this bullshit, you will too. You are a Matheson. You are Charlie Matheson, you are the most stubborn and loyal and strong woman I have ever met. '

He means every fucking word. He knows she hears every word he says. He hold her through it.

'And If you can't find a way, we will find it for you.'

Charlie feels something rise, something comes back she has thought lost for good. In postcards ripped up and thrown away.

She holds on to Bass, her fingers without even realising it moving deeper and stronger into his skin and around him, holding him. He almost grins as he feels emotions run high and tears come fucking too.

They cry, softly. Together.

Home.

Family.

'I am here for you,' he says, as Charlie feels something else move into her chest and heart. Safety and a place to belong and understanding and maybe, no certainly, love.

'You are here?' She repeats his words, almost a question, almost a truth that is there.

'Baby, I have been for a very long time,' Bass tells her.

Charlie calms down, somehow not walking away from the emotions, somehow him still being here, not afraid to look at her, make the darkness move back as want and passion return. He holds her, and stays the night. Two people finding family and some peace of mind in a world gone out of control.

Warmth.

Family.

But then, the night is over. As Charlie shifts, Bass sees her eyes, aimed at him. She is ready now. He gently moves over her arms with his fingers. He knows her body a little bit better now, and he will give her everything she wants now, without losing what she needs too.

She moves against him, as her warm core is close to his thigh, they move slow. Kiss. Touch. Again. He finds her core, moves inside of her, and the rhythm picks up, heated trusting and filling her, stretching her in a way that fills Charlie with pure sheer pleasure. Bass feels how Charlie dares him to move faster, but how she at the same time never loses him with her eyes.

From the very moment Charlie found him in New Vegas, he has been where she was. She has been where he was. He is still with her. She is still with him.

This world, it is all fucked up. It messed with him, changing him for good. He will never be who he is. She will never be who she should be, and his heart breaks for that, as is Miles.

It is the reason why they once started their Republic.

And somehow, after the loneliness she is here, he is here, Miles is here.

Being where the other is.

She tells him with her eyes, he tells him with every movement and grin and smug eyes and her dimple and hand on his hips. With whispers of Charlotte and Bass, as she calls him Bass, finally. He still calls her Charlotte, to tease her, to mess with her, and to take her, make her his. They will tell each other again they are here, over and over. As Charlie found a man strong enough to carry her and her past, as she is strong enough to find forgiveness and carry him too. And feels she is back with the two man she already loved so very much since she can remember, memories from Chicago and a world away.

They know they will be all that.

And it will always be like that.

Being where you are. Always.

It is sunrise, as Charlie feels him deep inside of her and he holds her body between his chest and thighs as she is sitting on top of him and she moans, he grunts, they move as one. Lock eyes, find the other. Bass looks at Charlie, moving like liquid lust and beauty.

'I am here for _you_ Bass,' She whispers, as she promise him what he promises her this night.

They make love that night.

It is sunrise as Charlie sits on his strong tall body, looking at Bass, as she smiles, and Bass smiles back as she moves her head back with a deep moan as he moves deeper inside of her and her hair moves over her shoulders, as his hands move over her shoulder blades, in the first light of a new day.

The End

* * *

 _Author's Note_ Thank you so much for reading! I know there was a hard moment in their lovemaking, but it felt real to me that something like that could happen in such a intimate moment. If you can move through that together, it is real. And in this story, their friendship and what grew out of that, is so very real. I am sure Miles will see that too, eventually. You know. When he is done kicking Bass' ass. :)

This story was about finding understanding, about feeling so bad and finding something that gives you a home. About Charlie, Bass and Miles. About their bond.

All the things that were there in their eyes, in all those eye locks of Charlie and Bass, that finally move into something that was here, in this night, between them.

Understanding. A home. Love, Loyalty. Tension. Passion.

Thanks for reading this story and the reviews you have sent me, I want to thank all the people who inspire me to write.

I am so grateful for all of you.

Love from Love


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